This Was Flying
by FadingSlowly
Summary: COMPLETE She detested Quidditch, broomsticks, and anything to do with heights, really. Gravity was her best friend, and she firmly believed that anyone who fancied flying had to be mental, until Potter came along with an offer she couldn't refuse...


A/N: hello, all! This story is gonna be a one-shot, so that's why the first (and only) chapter is so long. If you don't wanna read it all in one go, come back later. I won't take it down, I promise! Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I disclaim these characters' names.

This Was Flying 

I detested flying.

I'd never been on a broomstick before that first day of flying lessons, but I knew that I would just hate it. For one, I was deathly afraid of heights. And for another, I had horrid motion sickness. Ever since I was a little girl, I could never even ride in a car without feeling the slightest bit queasy. It was kind of sad, really.

Amusement park rides were out of the question. I remember trying to enjoy them. I really did try, but the second I was strapped into a roller coaster seat, and it started moving, my digestive system protested. The last thing I heard before I blacked out from a combination of fright and nausea were yells of horror coming from the person who was unfortunate enough to have to sit next to me. When I awoke and asked about it, my mom informed me that the last thing I had eaten had ended up all over that person's shirt, hence the yells of horror.

And planes? I'm relieved to say that I've never had the experience. Thank God.

I was always a firm believer in gravity. There's no sense in trying to defy what is. If gravity wants humans to stay on the ground, why fight it? Witch or not, broomsticks are not my friends, and they never will be.

_mwmwmwmw_

Another Quidditch game. Another win for Gryffindor. Another defeat for Slytherin. Sixth year Lily Evans did all she could not to roll her eyes at the festivities that night in the Gryffindor Common Room. It was bloody ridiculous. She honestly did not understand what it was about a bunch of crazies flying entirely too high on broomsticks and chucking different colored balls at each other that got so many witches and wizards so excited.

Lily sighed. Sometimes she considered herself too _muggle_ for certain wizarding world things that she didn't particularly understand or take a liking towards. Flying was definitely one of them.

"… and then, just rammed him into the wall!"

"… haha, right! Shoved that broomstick right up his ars-!"

"- morrow, get Potter to show us how…"

"Where is Potter, anyways? He's the one who caught the snitch! This is _his_ party more than any – "

"Hey, Sirius! Sirius, watch - !"

" – bloody bludger came right towards the stands! Did you see - ?"

Lily sighed again. She was beginning to think she was too muggle even for this party. She looked up at the bewitched clock on the common room wall. It had a different hand for each year, and instead of actual numbers, it had things like, "Breakfast Time," "Study Hall," "Free Time," and "Curfew – Don't Leave The Common!". All of the hands were currently pointing to somewhere halfway between "Dinner Time" and "Curfew."

She wasn't even remotely tired and guessed it that it was probably around seven o'clock or so. Curfew for fifth years and up was ten o'clock. So she had three hours to take a walk if she wanted, maybe find some place that was quieter, so she could finish the book she had been reading…

She stood up, clutched her book to her chest, and headed towards the portrait hole. Lily noted with some surprise that it wasn't even remotely dark outside yet. _And_, she thought to herself, _no one will be out there, because the Quidditch game is over._

She quickened her pace, wanting to have as much time to read as possible. She pushed open one of the double doors at the front of the school and surveyed the grounds. She would need a place with the good sunlight…

She grinned in delight as an idea came to her. The Quidditch field! Of course. It always had excellent sunlight because the players needed it to be able to see while they were flying around out there. Still beaming at her brilliance, she all but ran to the field. It was perfect! She could sit in the Gryffindor stands, maybe stretch out on one of those hard benches, (not that she really wanted to), and the sunlight would shine right onto her book pages. _Or_, she could stretch out right in the middle of the Quidditch field on the grass.

She had always been a nature person, and there was nothing nicer than curling up in the middle of the grass, or under a shady tree with a good book. Especially back home where her dad didn't mow the lawn very often and there was always plenty of spongy summer grass to roll around in… She would always come inside after it grew dark and Petunia would scrunch up her nose in disgust, and her mom would say in slight exasperation, "Oh, Lily, not another grass stain…", and her dad would laugh and say that she was his excuse for not mowing the lawn.

The Quidditch field was always nicely mowed, or cut or whatever. Lily, personally, never saw the reasoning for this, as all of the players' actual _playing_ was done up in the air. _And besides_, she thought, _if they fell, wouldn't it make more sense to have something thicker to land on?_

She approached the Quidditch field, recalling that the last time she had ever set foot onto it was in fourth year when she had her last flying lesson. She smiled to herself. The end of her flying days… Now, _that_ was something worth celebrating.

Suddenly, something in the air caught her eye, and she looked up with a sense of foreboding. Her stomach dropped. Great. Someone was taking a joyride. Now she was annoyed. Okay, so maybe the Quidditch field was for Quidditch, but the game had been over for about an hour now. Who in the world was still flying around out there? And all by her or himself, no less. She scowled. No doubt it was someone trying his or her best to impersonate moves from the day's game.

Lily suddenly got an idea. She was a prefect, wasn't she? So technically couldn't she send this person, whoever it was, into their common room or something? After all, it was potentially dangerous to fly alone with no one else out here to catch you or call for help if you fell. She was sure there had to be a rule somewhere about that…

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably. She knew she was being selfish. Just because she didn't like flying was no reason to ruin this kid's dream. Then again, she _really_ wanted to read her book… and the kid _really_ shouldn't have been out here all alone…

She was so caught up in her thoughts that she didn't even notice the person land in the middle of the field.

"Oy, Evans!"

She jumped a mile into the air when he waved a hand in front of her face.

"Potter!" she shrieked, her heart racing.

He grinned that stupid grin she knew so well. "Come to watch my brilliant flying skills, Evans?"

"You wish," Lily retorted. "If I wanted to watch you fly, I would have come to the game today."

She watched in satisfaction as the smile dropped off of his face to be replaced by confusion. "You didn't come to the match?" he asked in disbelief.

Lily rolled her eyes. "You know I don't care much for flying, Potter. Or Quidditch, for that matter."

They had gotten to the point where they could have a normal conversation, almost. She still loathed him, but it had dulled some this year, due to the fact that he was no longer asking her out on a daily basis. Now, it was more of a once a week thing.

"Lily, Lily, Lily…" he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

She hated that. Why did he have to say her name so dejectedly? Like she had completely ruined his day, or something? All she had said was something that he already knew. She didn't like Quidditch. Why was this such a big deal? She could feel herself getting angry under his pitying gaze. Why was _he_ feeling pity for _her_? Couldn't he see that he was hopelessly corrupted with this flying craze? She should be the one feeling sorry for him!

"Lily, Lily, Lily," he repeated.

"_What?"_ she snapped.

He gazed at her for a moment, his eyes still full of that sorry look that made her want to hex him, or something equally effective. _Anything to stop him from looking at me like that._

"What, Potter?" she said, raising her eyebrows.

"It's impossible," he said, simply.

"_What's_ impossible?" She was getting irritated at his vagueness.

"That you don't like flying. I don't believe it."

"Why not?" Lily said, dumbfounded.

"_Because_," he said, in a this-should-be-obvious voice, "someone like you who throws herself one hundred percent into everything she does, and _excels_ _at everything she does_, should have discovered the joys of a broomstick a long time ago."

Lily just stared at him. She couldn't decide if that was an insult or not.

"And if she didn't," Potter added lightly, "it might have been because she had the wrong teacher."

"We both had the same teacher, Potter," Lily said, smugly pointing out that fact.

"That's where you're wrong, Evans," He said, grinning. "Madam Hooch didn't teach _me_. I've been flying since I was old enough to sit up on my own. Mind you, little kids' broomsticks are nowhere near as advanced as these…" He gestured at the broomstick that he had in his other hand.

Lily rolled her eyes.

"Anyways," Potter said hastily, probably sensing her boredom, "I'm about to make you an offer you can't refuse, Evans."

"No," Lily said, immediately.

"I said, an offer you _can't_ refuse," he said, running a hand through his already windswept hair.

"If it has anything to do with me getting on a broomstick, then the answer is _no_!" Lily said, crossing her arms under her chest, tightly.

"Evans, _can't_ means _not allowed to_," he retorted.

"No, it doesn't," Lily said, glaring at him. "It means _physically unable to_."

"Fine! Then, you _won't_ refuse it!" Potter said. "_Won't_ meaning _will not_, which means that you're _not allowed to_!"

"You can't – " Lily started.

"Obviously, I _can_, because I just did!" he interrupted.

Lily stared at him furiously, vaguely aware that her whole body was shaking in fury. "Potter, you are the most _incorrigible_ - !"

"Midnight," he interrupted again. "At midnight, you _will_ meet me here, because if you don't, I'll wake your entire dorm, and have them believing that you're late for a midnight shag in the Astronomy Tower with me."

Lily gasped, staring at him. She was literally speechless. She had never wanted to make him feel pain so badly.

"Midnight," he repeated once more, as he headed off to the Quidditch showers.

Well, she certainly wasn't in the mood to read anymore.

Lily turned and fled back to Gryffindor Tower. She didn't stop until she had reached the dorm rooms, which were thankfully empty. The party was still in full swing. She flung herself down onto her bed, and yanked her bed curtains closed. Her head was pounding, and she was dizzy.

She had never hated anyone so much.

_mwmwmwmw_

_Why am I doing this again?_ She asked herself, trying not to breathe as she snuck down towards the field, lest she be caught. _Oh, yes, that's right. Because James Potter is a stupid git._

Lily's heart was racing as she approached the Quidditch field. It wasn't her first time sneaking out. Once she had been on a midnight date with a nice boy from Ravenclaw, and their relationship had been somewhat of a secret, so it wasn't as if they could meet in daylight… And she had never gotten caught! She was guiltily proud of herself for not getting caught this time, either. Never mind that it was James Potter she was sneaking down to see, and it would serve him right if she got caught because she certainly wouldn't hesitate to tattle on him. He deserved it after all!

Lily reached the edge of the field, and her mouth dropped open. He wasn't even there! That stupid, no good, bloody - !

"Lily!" a voice exclaimed, and suddenly James's body appeared where the voice had been. "You showed!" Apparently from the tone of his voice, he obviously hadn't been expecting her to, regardless of the threats.

Lily bristled. "Don't think I'm here because I want to be, Potter!" she snapped.

He just grinned in return. Why was he so damn _happy_? He had blackmailed her into coming here! She longed to wipe that stupid smile off of his face.

"You know, before I came down here, I was having a rather pleasant dream about you getting disemboweled by something monstrous and leggy," she said, heatedly.

He tilted his head to the side. He glanced up and down her body. Lily felt her face heat up. Just when she was about to comment on what a disgusting pig he was, he said, "Good. You're wearing muggle clothing. It's easier learning to fly in jeanies."

"Jeanies?" Lily asked, confusedly.

To her surprise, Potter blushed. "I mean, um… those muggle pants you're wearing. Aren't they called… jeanies?"

"It's _jeans_, Potter," she said, giggling.

He flushed even redder in embarrassment. "Oh," he said. He glanced at her again, then glanced at the ground, then at his broomstick in his hand. He seemed lost all of a sudden.

"Aren't we here for a flying lesson?" Lily asked, after she had recovered. "Might as well put these… _jeanies_… to good use." She dissolved into giggles again.

Potter scowled at her. "Shut it, Evans!" he said, hotly. "We're here for a flying lesson, not a stupid muggle studies lesson! And _I'm_ the teacher."

Lily glowered at him.

"Now," he said, his ears still slightly pink. "The first thing you have to learn is that the broomstick is your friend, not your enemy. You needn't be scared of it."

"I'm _not_," Lily lied.

"Good," he shot back. "This is mine, and I've had it for quite a while, so it's pretty attuned to my personal flying style."

Lily gave him a worried glance. "I don't _have_ a flying style, Potter. And even if I did, I'm sure it wouldn't – "

"Of course you don't," he said, matter of factly. "You see, if I teach you _my_ style, then the broom should be quick to respond to your commands, because it'll be used to the style _already_. What you have to understand, Evans is that it's not the flyer who has to get used to the broom; it's the broom that has to get used to the flyer. If I started you out on a regular school broom, it would take hours before the broom responded to you properly, especially if you're not used to flying at all."

Lily hated to admit it, but that made a lot of sense. "So you're basically saying that every broom has a mind of its own, and it won't trust me if I don't know what I'm doing?" she asked, skeptically.

"Exactly," he said, beaming.

Lily felt her stomach drop. "But Potter," she reminded him, "I _don't_ know what I'm doing. And you can't possibly teach me everything there is to know in one lesson."

"Of course I can't," he said, in the same tone of voice as before. It wasn't cocky or condescending either, she noted. He merely seemed to be stating the truth. She stared at him, not knowing if she liked this new side of Potter or not. Before she could decide, he started talking again.

"In fact, you're not even going to fly tonight," he said.

Lily felt her heart leap. "I'm not?" she asked, hopefully.

"Not by yourself," he said, smiling. Her stomach dropped again.

"What does that mean?" she said, wearily.

"Well, Evans, before you learn how to mimic my style, you have to _learn_ my style," James asked. "You need to _experience_ my style."

She was getting sick of all this style nonsense.

"And how exactly am I going to do that?" she interrupted.

In answer to her question, he mounted his broomstick, rose to her height, and slowly flew around the entire Quidditch field. He was going so slow that she could have sprinted and kept up with him. And he was so low that if she _had_ been sprinting next to him, she could have reached up and touched him.

He completed the lap and stopped next to her, hovering in midair for a second. "Did that look difficult to you?" he asked.

Truthfully she answered, "No."

"Good," he said, grinning. He lowered himself to the ground. "Now, hop on."

"What?" she said, taken aback. "With you?"

"Yes," he said. "I told you, you weren't flying alone."

"Potter, I don't know about this…"

"Evans, I swear to you that we're not going any faster or higher than that lap I just flew. In fact, we're doing the same exact thing. Now hop on," he said.

Hesitantly, Lily climbed on the back of the broom.

"Hang on to me," he commanded. She gingerly touched his shoulders. "No, no, Evans, hang onto my waist. If you're flying with someone, you never hang onto his or her shoulders. It's a hazard."

"Why?" Lily said, stalling. She could guess perfectly well why.

However, James explained just as patiently as could be. "Because, the flyer uses his or her hands and arm muscles to fly, right? If someone is hanging onto the flyer's shoulders, and suddenly the flyer has to swerve or something to avoid a potential collision, then the flyer's technique will be disabled, and the person in the back might be thrown off."

Lily shuddered, imagining herself being thrown off the back of James's broom as he swerved to avoid a goal post. No longer hesitating, she grabbed hold of his waist and tightened her arms around it. This action caused her front to be right up against his back. She honestly wasn't even thinking of the contact until she felt his entire body tense up in response to her closeness.

"I'm sorry," she said, suddenly embarrassed. She didn't loosen her grasp, though. She was honestly too afraid of falling off.

"No, it's okay," he said, his voice coming out gravelly. He coughed, and Lily felt him take a deep breath. "Ready?" he said. She heard the confidence in his voice, something that betrayed that he had done this many, many times before. Usually his confidence made her want to smack him, but tonight, it was oddly comforting.

She took a deep breath of her own. "Like Freddy," she said.

"Huh?" he asked, clearly confused

"Just go!" she said, irritated at his clueless-ness of muggle references.

He rose just enough to that her feet dangled about five feet from the ground, the same height he had been at before. Against her better judgment, Lily found herself looking down. They weren't that far from the ground at all. She felt herself relaxing just a smidge.

"Lily, pay attention to what I'm doing, okay? Watch, I'm going lean forward now, and put my hand here. When I do this, it tells the broom that I want to move in a forward direction. Okay? Watch now." He did exactly what he said, and Lily watched over his shoulder. He leaned forwards only slightly, and the broom started moving slowly.

"Did you see that?" he asked her. She nodded. "Look, now. The more I lean, the faster we go." He leaned a little farther and the broom accelerated a tiny bit. "Normally, if I was on this by myself, leaning this far would cause it to go a little faster than this. But the added weight of another person makes for a slower flight." He grinned. "Not that you seem to mind."

She glared at him. He had sounded like a bloody textbook up to that moment. She had to admit, though, he made this very easy to follow and understand. For their first lesson as first years, Hooch had just tossed them each broomsticks, said "up and at 'em," and left them to manage the broomsticks on their own, pretty much. It hadn't been a very encouraging first lesson at all.

"What happens if you lean all the way forwards?" Lily asked, trying to rid her mind of Hooch and those hellish flying lessons.

"A loop-de-loop, if you're high enough in the air," Potter said, grinning at the horrified look on her face. "Don't worry. I'm sure it wouldn't work right with two people anyways, and we're nowhere near high enough. The most we'd get to do is fly vertically, pointed downwards. Leaning back tilts your broom to fly vertically pointed upwards, and putting your hands closer to yourself while leaning into your broom lets you fly upwards without the feeling that you're about to fall off…"

"What?" Lily blinked.

"Flying upwards is a bit trickier than flying downwards, but going downwards is faster than upwards because of gravity…" Potter pulled to a stop and turned to look at her. They had completed the lap.

Lily was gaping at him, hopelessly lost.

"Right… um… we'll just save that for another lesson…" he said, quickly. "Look, all you need to know to do what I just did is that leaning forward slightly makes you go forwards. Keep your hands directly in front of you on the broom, so that you don't tilt the broom downwards. Now, get off."

"Huh?" Lily said, blinking again.

"Get off," he repeated. She did, and he hopped off as well. "Here." He handed the broom to her. With a trembling hand, she took it.

"What now?" she said, shakily.

"Get on," he smiled.

She slowly put the broom on the ground, stepped on either side of it, and then lifted it again, lest she trip herself trying to get on. She snuck a look at James. If he was laughing at her on the inside, he didn't show it.

"Aren't you going to get on, too?" she asked, hoping that didn't sound as pathetically hopeful to him as it did to her.

"Yeah, but you need to at least be hovering before I get on. It's murder trying to get off the ground with two people," he said, smiling now. He picked up the back of the broom and held it about two feet off the ground. "I'm going to hold this in case you kick off too hard…"

"Is that safe?" Lily asked, skeptically.

"No," he replied. "Now, kick off gently, just like I showed you, and lean backwards slightly to rise enough in the air, so that I can mount, too."

Lily took a deep breath. "Okay," she said, hoping the broom didn't sense her hesitation. _Please be nice to me… don't hate me… I know I'm a beginner, and I really don't deserve to be riding you, but don't throw me off, okay? Don't take me too high either if it's not too much to ask…_ Lily shook her head. It was almost one in the morning and she was in the middle of the Quidditch field trying to communicate with Potter's broomstick via telepathy. God, she was bonkers…

As she tried to relax, she kicked off as gently as possible… and ended up hovering about three feet in the air! "It responded to me!" she said, excitedly. James smiled at her. She suddenly noted that he looked tired.

"Good job," he said, taking his hand off the back of her broom to stifle a yawn.

"Whoa." She had to shift her weight a little, so that she wouldn't fall over.

"Sorry," he said, climbing onto the back with her. Again, she had to quickly shift her weight, so that they both wouldn't fall over.

"Careful, Lily," Potter said, gently. "On a broomstick, balance is everything." Slowly, he slid his hands around her waist. Her normal, paranoid self would have thought that he was subtly feeling her up, but her more rational self knew that he was doing it slowly, so he wouldn't startle her into intentionally speeding off or doing something equally terrifying.

"Okay, rise about another foot and a half or so, and then take a slow lap around the field," he said, his voice right in her ear. She shivered, and hoped it was a reaction to the night air and not his voice… or his closeness.

Trying to ignore it all, Lily rose another two feet in the air, and then took off shakily. She was nowhere near as smooth with her flying as Potter had been, and the broom responded that way. If she was hesitant, the broom seemed to be hesitant as well.

"Relax," Potter said, softly. "Just try to relax."

Lily stayed as still as possible, leaning just slightly forward so that the broom would go, but no matter what she couldn't will her body to relax. It just wasn't happening.

"Lean a little to the right to turn," he instructed. "Just a little bit."

Following her instructions as best as she could, she completed a lap around the field.

"Good job," Potter said, yawning again. "Okay, now to land, move your hands away from you, towards the end of the broomstick, the farther you move them, the more you'll tilt the broom forwards."

Lily couldn't suppress the smile that surfaced on her face as she landed rather smoothly for her first real try. (_Hooch's lessons don't count! _She told herself.)

"Not too shabby, Evans!" Potter grinned back at her. "That's enough for tonight, though. I'm beat."

"What do you mean, for tonight?" Lily asked, raising her eyebrow. "I agreed to come to this thing, didn't I? I think my end of this… _deal_ is over."

Potter just stared at her. "Come on, Evans, you can't honestly tell me that you don't want to keep learning how to fly… What you just did, that was the most basic of the basics!"

Lily glared at him. "You tricked me into coming here, Potter! It wasn't voluntary!"

"But it wasn't a complete waste of your time, either," he pointed out. "All witches and wizards need to learn how to fly, Evans! It's like second nature to our kind!"

She continued to glare at him.

"It's a safety precaution, too," he added.

"A safety precaution? How so?" Lily asked, sensing his oncoming lie.

"Well… say there's an escaped dragon in your neighborhood. It would be able to get you if you were on the ground, but in the air – "

"Dragons have _wings_, Potter."

"Right, but if you're a skilled enough flyer, you could get away from it," he said, triumphantly.

Lily sighed. "There is little to no chance that there would be an escaped dragon in my town, you git. Remember, I live in a _muggle_ neighborhood."

"It could happen," he replied, sheepishly.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She started to walk away, up towards the school.

"Wait, Lily, invisibility cloak," he said, draping it over the two of them before she had a chance to say anything.

"Potter, I – "

"At least admit that it was fun, okay? For my sake?"

"And why should I do that?" Lily asked. She felt like biting her tongue. By trying not to admit it, she _had_ just admitted it.

Potter just grinned at her.

The walk to Gryffindor Tower was silent. When they reached the Fat Lady, Potter slipped the invisibility cloak off of both of them. The Fat Lady jumped in surprise.

"James Potter! Out this late again! And Miss Evans! I'm surprised at you!"

"Shhh!" Potter said, grinning. "Niffler Snout." Still grumbling at them both, the Fat Lady swung the portrait open.

He gestured for her to go through first, and then he followed. Neither one of them speaking, they headed off to their respective staircases. Lily paused, putting her foot on the first stair.

"Potter!" she said, turning around.

She noted with faint surprise that he hadn't even started climbing the stairs, yet. He had been watching her.

"Yes?" he answered.

"The dragon attacking my neighborhood was a really stupid idea," Lily started. He lowered his eyes.

"I know," he mumbled.

"I think… it would be more likely that my house caught on fire… and the only way out would be through my upstairs bedroom window via broomstick," Lily said, a serious expression on her face.

His eyes darted up to meet hers.

"So…" Lily said, taking a deep breath. She knew she was going to regret this. "I'd need to be prepared for something like that, wouldn't I?"

"Naturally," he answered.

"Then, don't you think we need to continue these lessons? You know, in the chance that something like that happens?" she asked, trying to appear too hopeful.

He nodded. "That would be the smart thing to do," he replied.

"Um, okay. So tomorrow night, then? Same time?"

He nodded again. "Sure."

"Thanks," she said, turning around to head up the staircase.

"Lily?"

She turned around. "Yes?" she said quickly.

He smiled. "Goodnight."

_mwmwmwmw_

We practiced night after night. And then those nights turned into week after week, and soon, month after month. Not every night, of course, because we both had schoolwork and James had Quidditch (I went to every game), and then other teams scheduled the field to practice. But whenever James showed up with his broomstick in hand, I was always raring to go with him. My friends thought I had flipped. "Perfect, precious, scared-of-heights, Lily Evans? On a broomstick?" I enjoyed watching their jaws drop when they found me on the field racing James on the school brooms that day.

I had to admit, though, more than racing or anything, I loved riding on the back of James's broomstick. He was always super careful when I was on it, and we never did any loop-de-loops or anything that scary. We just flew around lazily, talking about nothing in particular.

I remember one evening we were drifting somewhere near the goal posts and I leaned into his back, and said softly, "So this is flying…"

He didn't say anything, so I figured he hadn't heard me. That was good. I was mostly talking to myself anyways. We landed about ten minutes later, exhausted from having spent almost an entire Saturday up in the air, and collapsed in the middle of the field. I remember gasping at the vastness of the sky. It was just so huge… and blue… and… _huge_…

Suddenly, I felt a hand slipping into my own, and an unexpected electric shock coursed through my entire body.

I turned to stare at James, but he was staring fixedly up at the sky. "James – " I started.

"Have you ever wondered what it would be like to fall through the sky?" he asked, interrupting me.

I continued to stare at him.

"To be completely weightless? Like upside down gravity?" he said, in the same voice.

"I've always wondered what it would be like to fly," I told him, truthfully.

He grinned, but still didn't turn to look at me. "Well, now you know," he said.

"No," I said, my heart pounding. I let go of his hand, sat up, then turned to him. I leaned over him, blotting out his sky. Then, ever so gently, I pressed my lips onto his.

I sat up and smiled. He wasn't moving. He appeared to be in shock.

"_Now_, I know," I whispered.

I grinned at his face expression, and willed my heart to stop beating so fast.

_So, this is flying…_

_mwmwmwmw_

A/N: Yes? No? Tell me what you think. I'm thinking of putting up a companion piece to this one called, "This Was Falling" from James's point of view. Again, tell me what you think.

Ariana S.


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